


Similis

by apoptoses



Series: Holiday Spirit [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, post-season 03, shameless wish fufillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 11:24:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8842846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apoptoses/pseuds/apoptoses
Summary: Going to the Christmas Market was a mythologically bad idea. Too many people, too much of a chance of getting recognized. But when Will had mentioned the advertisement for it, Hannibal’s eyes had lit up and well- 
When it came to inciting dangerous choices, Helen of Troy had nothing on Hannibal Lecter.





	

Snow crunched beneath Will’s boots as he wandered the cobblestone path; Hannibal’s gloved hand tucked into the crook of his right arm, a bag full to the brim with ornaments and holiday decorations in the left. Hannibal had taken hold of him upon exiting the car and hadn’t let go since. Whether it was for support or for affection was unclear. 

Not that Will minded. It was comforting to have Hannibal tucked up against his side, warm and solid and real.

Going to the Christmas Market was a mythologically bad idea. Too many people, too much of a chance of getting recognized. But when Will had mentioned the advertisement for it, Hannibal’s eyes had lit up and well- 

When it came to inciting dangerous choices, Helen of Troy had nothing on Hannibal Lecter. 

Snowflakes clung to Hannibal’s eyelashes, sparkling in the golden glow of the Christmas lights as he examined yet another ornament.

“Might be our last Christmas with snow for a long time,” Will said.

Hannibal glanced at him. “Are you regretting our choice to relocate?”

“No. Just saying.”

Winter held too many memories in its icy grasp. Will’s incarceration. Randall Tier’s attack. Hannibal’s surrender. The worst hits of Will Graham’s life story, forever locked in snow and ice. It would be a relief when the water at the docks thawed, and they could cast off and move on to the sunny shores of Havana.

Hannibal placed the ornament back on the table and steered Will into the crowd.

“Do you remember the springerle cookies you sent last year?” he asked.

Will raised his brows. “Alana actually gave them to you?”

“She even allowed me to keep the tin,” Hannibal said. 

“That’s shockingly generous of her.”

“Indeed. I’ve always been curious what prompted you to send such a thing. You’d never given me a Christmas gift before.”

Will looked at his feet as they walked a few paces further. He’d always resisted mulling over the _why_ of that particular choice. It had been the first tug that eventually led to the unraveling of the strings of his life. 

“Because on that day I finally missed you too much to hold it back,” he said. “Did you enjoy them?”

Hannibal squeezed his arm. “They were a great source of hope for me.”

Near a small sitting area there was a booth stacked high with sweets. Will could smell the sugar on the sharp winter air. 

His heart leaped. It was too far off to identify what was for sale, but it _was_ a Christmas market and-

“Why don’t you grab one of those benches? I’ll get us a snack.”

The springerle cookies were stacked high, separated into groups based on their design. They were nowhere near as fine as the ones Will had ordered so long ago, but there was a coziness in their misshapen edges. He kept an eye on Hannibal as he handed over his money to the staff. 

When Will pressed the napkin-wrapped cookie into Hannibal’s hands, Hannibal eyed him in a strange way, as though he weren’t sure Will was real. 

“Thought it might be nice to get to share one,” Will said. “Since you got the last tin all to yourself.”

Hannibal nodded, holding up the cookie to marvel at the little nativity scene that was raised upon it. “Of course.”

They ate their cookies in silence. Will watched the snow gather on Hannibal’s shoulders and in his hair, dusting him in a fine layer of white. His lips and cheeks had gone rosy from the cold.

“I uh- I have a present for you this year too. I was planning on saving it for Christmas day, but-” Will said, fumbling with his words. “It isn’t much.”

Hannibal wiped his mouth with the paper napkin and set it aside. “A gift from you is never just nothing much, Will.”

With unsteady hands, Will cupped Hannibal’s cold cheeks and pressed their lips together. For a moment his world narrowed to just that point of contact; to Hannibal’s mouth slotted against his as though it were made to be there. 

It was only the feeling of liquid spilling over his fingers that made Will draw away.

“I fear I’ll be hard pressed to find a gift for you that surpasses the one you’ve just given me,” Hannibal said, voice wavering.

Will smiled and stole another kiss before he got to his feet. “I’m sure you’ll find something. Let’s go home.”

They left the market hand in hand; Hannibal’s fingers laced with Will’s.


End file.
